For I am standing at a point on the earth, between an army and an ocean
But i do not cease, I do not struggle, toil or relent
I am at one with you, but walk at an arms length,
merging into the stratosphere, the walls, windows, tables and door’s
The clementine stands on the bed, squirming and turning, it rotates like a turbine powered, spasmodic cylinder engine
And as the sparrow hawk soars right up to the edge of everything, it spirals down to the descent, climbing, gliding and re-aligning itself.
Soaking up the atmosphere,
becoming at one with the furniture. Separating into stealth, as it bursts through the skyline with glee